Night Watch (Texas Cowboys Book 6) Read online

  The men had been careful to leave her a clear view of the woman’s pussy and of the large hand gripping the handle as it was pushed up and down between Sarah Michelson’s legs.

  The other woman’s thighs gleamed with moisture; her folds were red and swollen. Oh, she enjoyed it all right. Her body vibrated with her pleasure. Her thighs strained wider to allow Logan to continue to fuck her.

  Logan pulled the handle from her vagina while Joe unbuckled the restraints.

  Sarah sagged against Joe’s chest, but he held her away. Then the men walked her to the window, forcing her head down, and she raised her hands to hold the bottom of the windowsill so that her body was bent, her breasts swaying.

  Then Logan gripped the wet handle, raised it high, and struck her buttocks.

  Sarah’s head dropped lower, her knuckles whitening against the casing she clutched hard. However, she did nothing to avoid the blows that followed in quick succession, aimed at different spots.

  He paused, thrust a hand downward, and then lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

  Amy quivered at his expression. Dark, intense, his gaze rising to meet hers across the yard.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Joe tug his tee over his head and shove down his pants. He walked toward Logan and held out his hand for the whip, which Logan surrendered immediately, stepping back.

  Joe brushed the flanges over Sarah’s trembling back and buttocks, and then dropped it. His hands clasped her cheeks and massaged them, lifting them up, then releasing them. His hand raised, and he slapped her with his open palm.

  Amy followed the motion, watching as he delivered another blow to the other cheek, and then realized she’d lost sight of Logan again. She searched the room, her breath releasing when he stepped back into view, only to choke when she saw that he was nude.

  His cock rose straight from his groin.

  Joe glanced over at him then laughed

  Logan’s expression was rueful, but he gripped his cock in one hand and stroked it, up and down. He stood to the side of Sarah, and Joe turned her to face Logan, still bent over.

  Sarah’s hands reached in front of her, caught hold of Logan’s cock with one and cupped his balls with the other. Then she tugged him toward her face.

  Joe reached around her, rolling up the bottom edge of the hood until her mouth was exposed.

  She licked her lips once then stuck out her tongue and wet the tip of Logan’s cock.

  They were in perfect profile. Amy could see everything. Joe palming Sarah’s ass and thrusting his hips toward her, his cock disappearing, sliding into Sarah’s body. Sarah opening her mouth wide and swallowing Logan’s cock as he fucked her mouth, his gaze intent on Sarah’s motions as she licked and sucked then swallowed him again.

  Then his head turned slowly, his gaze meeting Amy’s again, and Amy backed up against her folding table, grabbing the edge to steady herself.

  This was all for her. Staged for her to see. Her gaze slid away from his, dropping to where Sarah greedily gobbled him up.

  Impossibly, the other woman swallowed his length, her mouth stretching around his girth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked, billowing as she drew off and breathed. Her breasts and ass jiggled with the force of Joe’s strokes.

  Amy met Logan’s gaze again, locking with his for a long moment, trying to read whatever message he was trying to send her over the distance.

  Was he mocking her? He needn’t have gone to such extremes to make her feel unequal. She didn’t possess the feminine beauty of Sarah Michelson. He didn’t have to drive his cock like a stake through her heart to make that point.

  Or was he telling her what she should expect, what he meant to do to her? As intimidating as this staged tableau was, more frightening to Amy was the thought that she’d eagerly let herself be used, to be mocked or pleasured, for the sheer orgasmic sensation of feeling Logan slide between her lips…and dear God, her legs.

  Whatever he wanted, she would willingly give for just one night with Logan Ross.

  Chapter 2

  “Is she still watching?” Joe asked, his voice tight.

  “Don’t you have more self-control than that?” Logan muttered.

  Sarah giggled around Logan’s cock.

  “Just asking,” Joe said, between tightly clenched jaws. “You sure this is the way to woo this girl?”

  Logan snorted. “I’m not sure of a damn thing. But I don’t want her painting rosy pictures about what being with me will be like.”

  “Shock therapy?”

  He shrugged. “Just letting her see the truth.”

  Joe’s eyebrows zagged up and down. “Sounds serious. Didn’t think you’d ever be bit by the bug.”

  Logan frowned. “I’m not sure what this is. But I’m damn tired of following her around like a lovesick pup. She’ll either go for it or call the cops on me.”

  “Which could be a little embarrassing. Sarah could wind up sitting in her daddy’s docket after all.”

  Sarah slurped and came off Logan’s cock.

  Logan gritted his teeth, ready to fist his hand in her hair to keep her where he needed her.

  “You two are so completely clueless,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes. “If she’s still watching you watching her, then she’s plenty into you, Logan. Although, I have to say you could have started her out with something a little less intimidating than flogging me to within an inch of orgasm.”

  “She wasn’t intimidated,” Logan muttered.

  “You could tell what she was thinking from across a dark yard?”

  “She didn’t grab the edge of the table until I faced her. She’s curious.”

  “Why don’t you just invite her in?” Joe said tightly, still pounding at Sarah’s pussy.

  “And expose her to your two kinky selves? I don’t want her running screaming for her door.”

  “But you’d let her see us?” Sarah said, her voice teasing.

  “This isn’t the first time she’s watched,” he reminded them.

  “So, what’s next? Do I get to come sometime soon?” Joe growled.

  “Me, too,” Sarah chirped. “I’m just a little worked up here.”

  “Baby,” Joe crooned, “there’s no ‘little worked up’ to you. You’re so fucking wet my dick’s swimming in your cunt.”

  “Gawd, I love it when you talk dirty.”

  Logan stepped back. “You two finish up.”

  “You kickin’ us out?” Joe asked, his eyebrows rising.

  “Yeah.” He knelt and pushed up Sarah’s torso and latched onto a nipple, nipping the tight bud with his teeth.

  Her body vibrated then jerked as Joe hammered her to orgasm. Sarah’s cries, tight yet throaty, along with Joe’s heavy grunts, made him smile.

  Sure, his cock was still aching, but as soon as these two were out of the door, he was going to move into the next stage of his plan to seduce Schoolteacher.

  * * *

  Amy stuffed her chart and flashlight into her bag and folded up her table, ready to escape, the trio having left the room just moments before.

  With the three of them apparently finished, she didn’t want to risk having her neighbor confront her.

  She raised the lens cap dangling on a string to cover the end of the telescope, and then couldn’t resist glancing one last time inside the room.

  Logan had returned.

  Her hand paused mid-air, the lens cap falling from numb fingertips. He was still completely nude and pacing the room like a caged tiger.

  Everything about him oozed frustration. From the jerky, heavy movements of his naturally graceful body to the erection that hadn’t waned.

  He disappeared for a moment, and then stepped into her view again, straps dangling from his fingers.

  Quickly, she lowered her face to the eyepiece again. The straps were leather with Velcro tabs and metal slides. Their purpose became clear when he dropped one strap beneath his balls and laid another on top and cinched them. The next strap encircled h
is engorged cock. He pulled the tabs, tightening the harness.

  If possible, his erection seemed to thicken and lengthen, or was his massive size just emphasized by the framing of the taut leather?

  It didn’t matter. She knew he used the harness to arrest his arousal, maintaining it at its fullest to prolong his pleasure.

  He picked up one of those short whips with the leather flanges and stood directly in front of the window again.

  His gaze didn’t meet hers. It remained on his swollen sex. Widening his stance, he draped the flanges over his shaft and pulled the handle, letting the leather caress his length.

  Over and over again, he slowly dragged it up and across his length then dropped his arm at his side. With his free hand, he cupped his balls, lifting them, drawing her gaze to their smooth, hairless surface. Reddened, bulging, he caressed them gently and tugged, then let them go. Next, he lifted his shaft straight up and struck his balls with the whip.

  Amy gasped. She’d always assumed the most sensitive and vulnerable part of a man could never take a blow, but there he stood, striking his balls with the whip, resettling his feet to widen his legs then striking again.

  Fascinated, she had to force herself to raise the scope to his face, to see how he took his self-flagellation.

  His face was tight, deep lines bracketing his mouth, his eyebrows drawn into a dark, forbidding frown. A shiver crawled up her spine at his expression, and then another shuddered through her when his gaze lifted.

  He struck himself again, and she watched his mouth fall open around a groan she couldn’t hear. His eyes closed, and the hand on his cock stroked up and down his shaft.

  Why did he do this? Why did he seek pain when he could so easily pleasure himself?

  Or was the pain part of the pleasure?

  She remembered tweaking her own nipples when she’d masturbated and thought she might understand, in a very small way, what drove him now.

  He tossed the whip to the side and picked up a plastic bottle he’d placed on the windowsill. Something she’d missed when she’d been staring so intently at his body.

  He squirted its contents into his palm then smoothed the liquid over his cock, his hands skimming his length until his shaft gleamed as though oiled. And perhaps it was.

  She couldn’t really tell from where she stood. She wondered whether it was scented. Whether it warmed with friction. She wished she could wrap her fingers around his satiny flesh and find out for herself.

  With a tightening of his jaw, he slowly wrapped the fingers of one hand around himself and began to pump his hand up and down his shaft, while loosening the straps encasing him.

  As though she was in the room with him, encouraging him, she felt relief that, at last, he was going to end his torture. Evenly paced strokes smoothed up and down the thick column, and she watched the arm delivering the strokes flex, veins rising on his biceps as he labored.

  His chest gleamed with a light sheen of sweat that darkened the thickly curling fur clothing his skin. His breaths deepened, the heavy slabs of muscle lifting and falling more rapidly now.

  Her own breaths quickened, growing shallow and ragged. Her hand gripped the plastic cylinder of the telescope, and she compared its hard metal surface to the view of his rigid, veined staff and tried to imagine the skin moving beneath her hand as she fisted him.

  His belly jumped and quivered, his thighs tensed, and suddenly his strokes shortened, growing more frantic, less controlled.

  She held her breath.

  Thin stripes of pearlescent come spurted from the tip of his cock, falling back to his hand, coating it, mixing with the oily liquid moistening his shaft until his hand glided in wetness.

  The wet heat between her own legs shocked her. She’d felt outside herself watching him, but all along her own body had grown aroused. She shifted her stance, the friction of her cotton shorts rubbing between her thighs not nearly enough to ease the ache centered on her hardening clitoris.

  She sank her hand between her legs, delving beneath the edge of her shorts and upward, sliding her fingers between her folds. She withdrew her fingers and rubbed the creamy fluid with her thumb, and then moved her hand toward her face.

  He’d watched. His hand left his cock, and he licked the back of it.

  Amy didn’t know where she found the courage to follow his silent command, but she raised her fingers to her lips and stuffed them into her mouth.

  Logan’s face relaxed, warmth seeping into his expression.

  Encouraged by his approval, she withdrew her fingers then slid them back into her mouth, her lips closing around them to suck the flavor of her arousal, just as she wanted to do with his cock.

  She pulled them from her mouth again and stood in the darkness. This odd communion between them felt real, felt as though they were somehow engaged in a mutual seduction, but she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to continue.

  He raised his hand, fingers spread.

  Five fingers. Five minutes? Did he mean for her to wait? He turned and strode naked from the room while she quivered in the darkness and contemplated making a mad dash for her back door.

  But her equipment… She couldn’t leave it. And she couldn’t lug it back quickly enough.

  A door opened and slammed shut. A dark figure emerged from the shadows engulfing the side of his home, striding straight for her, and she groaned.

  She wasn’t ready of this. What would she say?

  His long strides ate up the distance between them, and then he stepped into the light spilling from his window. She saw that he’d donned blue jeans and sandals. And she felt disappointment that he wasn’t still nude.

  He reached her, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, and then he was bending toward her.

  His lips touched hers, and she gasped, opening beneath the gentle pressure. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she got her first taste of Logan’s come.

  Another stroke, and she realized he tasted her arousal, and then he was dragging up her hand, bringing her two fingers to their joined mouths. His tongue licked her fingers and her lips, and she was encouraged to do the same, sharing her arousal with him just as she might share food with a lover.

  It was the most erotic experience of her life, that kiss. Warm, wet…messy.

  When he drew back, they both breathed heavily, and she swayed toward him, her knees weakening.

  His arms surrounded her, supporting her weight, and he pushed her head to his shoulder. Her cheek did indeed rest there naturally. Her head fit in the corner of his neck, and it was more pleasurable then she could ever have imagined.

  His skin was hot, bathed in a thin sheen of sweat. She struck out her tongue and tasted it, and his soft chuckle warmed the side of her face. “Are you okay?” he asked, his deep voice, thick, and gravelly.

  She shivered at the visceral sensation of his voice scraping across her skin. “I’m not sure.”

  “That’s all right. This is enough for now.” He held her away from him and reached a hand behind him, returning with a single dark rose.

  She took it from him, closing her eyes as she inhaled the fragrance permeating the soft petals. “I didn’t mean to spy on you.”

  “I know. But you couldn’t resist staying either, could you?”

  She shook her head, glad of the darkness hiding her blush. “You did it on purpose. Was it because you knew I’d be here?”

  “Of course.”

  “But why?”

  His lips curved slowly. “I don’t know how most men set out to get your attention, schoolteacher, but I wanted to make an impression.”

  A smile tugged at her lips, and she ducked her head. “A simple hello would have worked just as well. As a matter of fact, picking up those papers made me—”

  “Wet?”

  She groaned softly. “God, how can you be so casual saying that to me. You don’t even know me.”

  “I know more than you think. I’m going to ask you to go to dinner with me tomorrow night, and you’re
going to say yes.”

  Amy shivered at the razor intensity of his tone, imagining how he’d sound whispering in her ear when they made love. A silly thought. Could he really want her? “But why? Why me?”

  He grunted. “You’ve been driving me crazy. For weeks. I wanted to ask before, but you needed to know some things about me first.”

  “That’s why you staged this?”

  He didn’t respond, but she knew it was true.

  His lips tightened. “Let me help you take your equipment back.”

  A frisson of alarm bit her spine. Did he expect her to invite him in? Her house was a mess, and she was wearing her oldest pair of panties.

  “Don’t worry. Only to the door. We can take this at your pace. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  She tilted her head as she studied his taut expression. “You’re willing to do that for me?”

  “For as long as it takes. And if you ask me why again, I’ll kiss you again.”

  She had to think about that. Another kiss would be nice.

  “Maybe you want another anyway?” he asked, amusement softening his rugged voice.

  “Please,” she said softly.

  “I like the way you say that.”

  This time, his kiss was more restrained. Sweeter. His lips rubbed against hers, and she lifted her hands timidly to embrace his shoulders, filling the need to measure their breadth.

  His soft groan swept away her reticence, and she leaned into him, letting her breasts mash against his chest and rising on her toes to meet his kiss directly. For once, her height pleased her. She opened her eyes to find him staring back and broke the kiss.

  “I don’t mind that you’re a little shy,” he said, his strong hands gently cupping her hips.

  “I do.”

  “Do you feel at a disadvantage?”

  “I feel unequal,” she whispered. “Completely overwhelmed.”

  His head canted to the side, his gaze thoughtful. “Because you don’t think you’re attractive to me?”